


Inviting Disaster

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin is wounded while trying to retake a base from Separatist forces, and Obi-Wan finds it difficult to separate his own wants and needs from the wants and needs of the galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inviting Disaster

_"A Jedi is a Jedi, first and foremost, and only. For a Jedi to divide his attention between the will of the Force and the will of others is to invite disaster."_  
―Hoche Trit

_Stay here, Anakin._

What in the universe made him think that Anakin would ever listen to him? He was a willful boy, always on the move, always leaping without looking, and over the years Obi-Wan should have learned that nothing would keep him still.

The medical droid had tended to Anakin and his vitals were stable, but Obi-Wan refused to leave his side. Padmé had sent word that she was stuck on Coruscant, with some Senate business that Obi-Wan had only half listened to, and that she wouldn't be able to make it to Anakin's side for at least another few days.

The sadness and fear in her voice had hurt him -- both because he hated to know that a friend was distressed, and because it felt like it was _his fault_ that Anakin had rushed in and gotten himself hurt. 

The mission had been simple; retake a base that the Separatists had occupied and make sure that they were never able to recapture it. Obi-Wan had briefly considered destroying the base entirely so that neither side could occupy it; but he had dismissed the thoughts as being... too similar to thoughts Anakin would have suggested.

He thought of how he'd watched as a blaster had torn a hole through Anakin's midsection, of how time had slowed as he'd moved to him and Anakin had fallen to his knees. All that he'd said, over and over, was that he'd told him to _stay behind_ , that he _wasn't supposed to be there_ , but Anakin wasn't coherent enough to hear his reprimands, and Obi-Wan had been forced to take him into his arms and get him to safety as quickly as he could.

The way he'd felt in his arms...

Obi-Wan watched Anakin's face as he slept, fingers bunching in his robes and stomach in knots. 

_Attachment is forbidden._

Yes, of course it was. And for this very reason, too. He'd failed a vital mission because of his attachment to his padawan. They had been forced to withdraw and leave the base under the control of the Separatists, and Obi-Wan had felt the disappointment from Masters Yoda and Windu when he'd spoken with them earlier. They hadn't said anything about his attachment to Anakin or how his relationship with his padawan had become dangerous, but Obi-Wan had sensed their frustration with him.

_Put this to rest, Obi-Wan_ , a voice whispered. _Do not let yourself become lost in this. Or in him._

But what was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to turn off what he felt, was he supposed to erase the memories he had of Anakin, to switch himself off like some kind of _droid_? How was he supposed to be a Jedi -- compassionate and decent and led by the goodness of his heart -- without forming attachments?

None of that mattered when he glanced over and found Anakin watching him, his eyes hooded and dazed, but focused. If he’d meant to reprimand him when he woke, to scold him for his recklessness and his refusal to follow orders, there was no way that he could when he looked into Anakin’s eyes. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, sure that there was thick emotion in his voice that betrayed him. “I’ll fetch the medical dro--”

“No,” Anakin said. He reached out and gripped Obi-Wan’s wrist, squeezing weakly. “Don’t go. M’okay. Promise.”

“Your promises mean very little to me,” Obi-Wan snapped, shaking off Anakin’s touch. _There_ was a reprimand, and he was satisfied with himself, even as he obeyed Anakin’s desire for him to remain and took his seat. “I seem to recall you promising to remain behind and not charge in and nearly get yourself killed.”

“The mission---”

“Was a failure,” Obi-Wan said, the sharpness of his voice making Anakin wince. “Thanks to you.”

Obi-Wan genuinely believed that Anakin was incapable of surprising him after so many years spent together. The boy was reckless and wild, a bit like holding onto the reins of a bucking, restless colt -- but he was _predictable_ ; he would apologize, vow to do better next time, and never quite manage to follow the most basic and straightforward of orders. Master Qui Gon had believed that Anakin was the Chosen One, that he would become a great Jedi and be the savior of the galaxy; but Obi-Wan only saw a stubborn boy who refused to recognize all of the risk and complexity of war and of command. 

What kind of savior couldn’t remain where they were _expressly told_ to remain?

And so he would promise, and so Obi-Wan would accept it, and so it would go on, until Anakin got himself killed.

And so when Anakin asked, “Why didn’t you let me die?” Obi-Wan was, quite obviously, taken aback. Didn’t he know the script by now? By the universe, couldn’t he be consistent from moment to moment and day to day?

“ _Excuse me_?” Obi-Wan blustered.

“Why didn’t you let me die?” Anakin asked. He was strangely, eerily calm, speaking of his own death. His eyes were no longer dazed, but alert and clear, and he looked at Obi-Wan as though he were a small child incapable of understanding the simplest of questions. “You could have completed the mission without me. You should have---” Suddenly less sure of himself, Anakin looked away, biting his lip, before whispering; “You should have just let me die, Obi-Wan.”

Many people thought him quick-witted and very bright, but all that Obi-Wan could think, when Anakin spoke of his own death, was: _But then you’d be dead._

The thought was enough to turn him immediately cold. Goosebumps spread over his skin, and wet heat pricked at his eyes, and his chest shuddered, as if from some great impact. 

“I couldn’t let you _die_ ,” Obi-Wan said, desperately.

“Why?” Anakin asked. “This is war, isn’t it? Every single person in this war puts their life on the line every day, and we’re taught that to die for the Republic is to die with honor. I was reckless and I endangered the mission, and you should have just---”

“I need you,” Obi-Wan said. Hearing the words, his face immediately flushed, and he bit the inside of his cheek before amending, “ _We_ need you. The Republic. The---The war needs you.”

“I’m just a Jedi,” Anakin said. “There are plenty more.”

“And what if you’re the Chosen One?” Obi-Wan asked. “What if you die and the galaxy is plunged into darkness and chaos?”

“Don’t start with that,” Anakin sighed, leaning his head back and rubbing irritably at his temple. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Master Qui Gon believed in you,” Obi-Wan said. “He did not place his faith in lies. And he would never forgive me if I allowed something to happen to---”

“Master Qui Gon is _dead_ ,” Anakin bit. “And the world kept turning, didn’t it? Don’t pretend that the war and the Republic and the galaxy are what need me, Obi-Wan.”

_Put this to rest, Obi-Wan._

He stood and steeled himself -- his shoulders and his eyes and his heart. Nothing would be kept soft or warm for him. Nothing could be, or the next time Anakin decided to ignore his direct orders, it would be the end of both of them. 

“You need your rest,” Obi-Wan said, his voice cool and clipped and his eyes never meeting Anakin’s. “We can speak later.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, the dagger his tongue had become sheathed now. He sounded apologetic, and Obi-Wan did not want his apologies. What he wanted was for Anakin to follow orders and behave the way a proper Jedi should. 

_Master Qui Gon is dead._

He was, and it was because Obi-Wan had been too weak to save him. And after, he had nearly been destroyed by the loss of him; he had been driven to his knees and torn open, and what would happen if Anakin shared his fate? His love and his attachment were dangerous things, best broken and severed. 

Obi-Wan would not lose Anakin the way he had lost Qui Gon. 

He would not let his love for him become the weapon that killed him.

**Author's Note:**

> never underestimate my ability to write heart wrenching angst. it's a specialty of mine. and, let's be honest, these two kind of demand it, don't they?


End file.
